


Fly Me To The Moon

by SleeplessInGeneral



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Past Character Death, Will update tags as things go on, but if I put them all in here it'll be a wall of tags and fuck that, dnd levels of violence, drugs trips and magic tricks aplenty, honestly the whole gang is here, none graphic tho I promise, the Claytons adopted Merril because she deserves nice things, this is kinda psychedelic if I'm being honest, trans Logan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleeplessInGeneral/pseuds/SleeplessInGeneral
Summary: It was a snowy, blustery day in New York, when two heartbroken humans found out that magic exists. And it was that same snowy, blustery day when they were thrown into a plot to wreck the world... or maybe to save it.(Also known as: Dimension 20's Unsleeping City, but make it Dalton)
Relationships: Casey Lambert/Derek Seigerson, Daniel Abbot/Wesley "Wes" Hughes, David Sullivan/Katherine Rivers, Gregory Harvey/Sylvia Medel, Julian Larson-Armstrong/John Logan Wright III, Merril Portman/Spencer Willis, Shane Anderson/Reed Van Kamp
Kudos: 2





	1. The Humans

**Author's Note:**

> Lyn says "Spencer fighting to leave the afterlife to be with Merril again", I say "Unsleeping City AU where Merril is Sofie Bikes".
> 
> I apologize for the levels of bullshit this fic is going to contain... most rights belong to Brennan Lee Mulligan and his band of intrepid heroes. I'm just turning it Dalton.

It was a snowy, blustery day in New York. Cold, crisp, clear skies above the city skyline, snow flurries carried by the wind over the Chrysler building, down through the streets and over the Brooklyn bridge, further and further down into Colonial Williamsburg, close to the water, where Dr. Arin Blake’s office lay. In that office, a young man started to get more and more frustrated.

Josh wouldn’t answer any of Logan’s texts, and it was getting really annoying. It’s been a couple weeks now, really, so why…

He was close to crying. This was ridiculous.

“Okay, Logan, how’s it going?” Dr. Blake asked as he entered his office, looking over some papers. Logan snapped out of his trance at that, rushing to hide his phone.

“Oh, it’s good, man,” Logan chuckled, trying to pretend like everything is actually and truly alright.

“Yeah? You feeling alright?” He snickered, looking in his papers. “Your test results do not indicate this is true.”

“What do you mean...?”

“Well, I’m looking here… I guess we’ll start with the small stuff. Your blood test came back.”

Logan buried his head in his hands at that point. Ah, shit…

“Your vitamin levels are… not great. What have you been eating recently?”

“Well, ramen, eggs… I found out that if you microwave cheese on a plate, you can peel it off and then it’s like a crispy… like a crispy cracker.”

“Oh boy, okay… you know you shouldn’t be eating just cheese, especially microwaved. You thought— you can’t get— well, you can always mix the cheese into the eggs for some variety, but if you like the cheese cracker you could go down to the corner store and get yourself a microwave toaster, at least the cheese will be more crisp.”

“Yeah, yeah yeah, maybe you’re right, yeah. I could probably eat a salad or something…”

“...so, good news as well, it looks like you’re totally healed up from top surgery, which is great. Congratulations.”

Logan smiled at that, finally a genuine one. “Thank you, yeah. Yeah… now I’m ready to… fuck.”

He started crying before even finishing his sentence, immediately catching Dr. Blake mumble an “oh boy” and go in to hug him with his lanky noodle arms, patting his head in an attempt to comfort him.

“Okay, Logan, okay— Logan…” he paused for a second, letting Logan let out a loud sob. “Hey, buddy, it’s okay. I know it’s hard. Tell Dr. Blake what happened.”

“No, it’s fine,” Logan mumbled between sobs. “It’s fine…”

“It’s clearly not fine.”

“I… I’m just happy to be alive.”

“Did your father find out where you live and now you have to move?” Blake asked as Logan reached in his backpack, looking for something specific. Something very specific. “Is that what’s going on?”

“No, actually, it’s, umm—” Logan threw a shroom in his mouth. 

The doctor didn’t waste a moment.

“What did you just eat?” He asked, letting go of Logan very quickly. “What did you just put in your mouth?”

“A vegetable…?”

As Logan grabbed another one, Dr. Blake grabbed it from his hand, holding it away from him.

“This is hallucinogenic, Logan. You’re on medication. Specifically antipsychotic medication.”

“Yeah, I know! That’s why it’s totally fine! My friends told me—“

“Logan, please.”

“I can take as many of these as I want, they said it’s safe! I’ve got the remedy!”

“Logan, when was the last time you slept?”

“Uhh…” he had to take a minute. “I haven’t exactly been sleeping… yeah, I have… right before I’m about to fall asleep, if I think about something scary or sad, I just stay up and then all of a sudden it’s five forty in the morning, and it’s like I might as well just microwave some cheese and start the day, you know?”

“...I’m just going to run through a checklist real quick here, if I can.”

“Yeah, sure, thank you Doctor.”

“You have not slept in a couple days. It’s affecting your help. Sleep is the most necessary part of recuperation— don’t take another mushroom, I can see your hand twitching. One is fine. Honestly, even for a good time, one is fine.”

“Yeah.” Logan threw in another mushroom.

“You are actively doing recreational drugs. You have not slept in days. You are on antipsychotic medication. You are also taking hormone treatment— you’re taking testosterone.”

“Yeah.”

“So this, in the medical profession we would say, is a lot going on. Right?”

“Mmhm.” He grabbed another mushroom.

“I don’t think that’s good for you. You need to— I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but you need to find a way to get in touch with yourself, because you’re trying to medicate for a situation that medication maybe cannot treat.”

“I kinda get what you’re saying…” he threw another in.

“Maybe you should— that’s a third one!” The doctor hit Logan’s back, managing to get one of the mushrooms to come flying out of his mouth.

“Look, Logan, I’m going to try to get a stomach pump for you, because you’re going to straight up go insane if you process these mushrooms. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, thank you,” Logan mumbled, leaning back on the office bed. 

As Dr. Blake left the room, Logan felt himself dozing off a bit, when he heard a dripping sound coming from the radiator. A bit of an old one, hasn’t been replaced yet, but the drips seemed to be going toward the ceiling.

_ Huh. Cool. _

The drips started pooling into a puddle on the ceiling, near a New York public health poster on the wall, the small dude in the poster reflecting in the puddle quite well.

And then he heard him. The guy in the poster.

“ _ Hey, Logan. How’s it goin’? I’m real! _ ”

“It’s going…” he shrugged. “Honestly, I feel like I can be really honest with you, I miss him. And I deleted his number from my phone, but then I found it in our early Instagram exchanges so I re-added it, and I’ve already texted him three times this morning.”

“ _ Okay! Magic’s real! Everything’s about to change for you! _ ”

“Do you think he read the text or do you think I should—“

The door opened again before he could finish the sentence, and back came Dr. Blake, going through his papers again. The guy in the puddle disappeared.

“...hey, where did you go…?”

“Okay, this is not great…” the doctor sighed. I’m worried about you. You need to rest.”

Logan straightened up, a bit disappointed. “Okay, man, yeah…”

“You need to heal. Be careful out there today. Oh, remember, by the way, I would say go get rest because also it's going to be a crazy day for you, right? Because SantaCon is happening today, right?”

“Aw, fuck!” Logan groaned, getting off the bed. “You’re right… and the twins are gonna drill me, they’re gonna want so much cocaine…”

“Are people still doing—“

“Just the Santas, they’re stuck in the nineties.”

“Oh, so mostly people from Hoboken.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Eh, what are you going to do…? Well, listen, one of my clients got into a nasty car accident and I need to make a house call. Be safe, kid.”

“Yeah… thank you so much, Doctor. I’ll see you.”

* * *

Much like Logan, in a small flower shop in Staten Island, someone else hasn’t been sleeping well recently.

Merril Willis— no, Merril  _ Portman _ , she was no longer a Willis— was trying to organize the baby’s breath in a bouquet while completely hungover.

“...and honestly, I couldn’t fuckin’ believe it,” her client — her  _ adoptive sister _ , Hope — said, waving about as she was making smalltalk. “The house is a disaster…”

“Really?”

“Oh, it’s awful. They painted it this shade of like, I don’t know, lime green. It looks like fuckin’ St. Patrick’s day!”

“I tell you, everyone on this island has too much money they don’t know what to do with,” Merril tried to joke, snipping the stem of another red gerbera daisy. 

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to say! It doesn’t take a lot of money to be classy! I don’t understand!”

“I know, but everyone gets bored, so they just… they’re like, ‘I can’t buy a bigger house because then it’ll be obvious I’m in the mob, so I guess I’ll just paint my house a new shade of lime green!’” She stopped for a second, starting to cry. “I’m sorry…”

“Oh god, Merril, no!”

“No no no, it’s fine, I really wanna finish this bouquet for you! I just need to finish this—-“

“No no, Merril, I— I honestly— okay, I’ve been ordering bouquets from you for three years now.”

“Yeah…”

“I’m not trying to— you know, this looks like my wedding bouquet, not exactly a Christmas appropriate one…”

Merril stopped to take a look at her… creation. It was supposed to just be nice and colorful and Christmas-y, but she kept adding gerberas and tulips and whatnot until it started looking less like a bouquet and more like a floral balloon.

“But… you asked for red and white, didn’t you?”

“Well, the thing is… it looks less red and white and more like a scene from Carrie, I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I know, I know, I’m gonna… I’m gonna give you a discount.”

Hope looked a bit dissatisfied at that, wrinkling her nose, but still nodded. “Okay, a discount. Okay.”

“Tell you what,” Merril sniffled. “Gimme your punch card, I’ll… punch out a couple extra.”

Hope smiled in pity at that and got her card. “Honestly, you’re a doll. An’ honestly, it’s so fucked up what happens, and god forbid anything would’ve happened to me and Sydney, but—”

“Okay, I don’t think you need to bring in you and Sydney just because me and Spencer fell apart. And we wouldn’t have fallen apart if Tabitha Adams didn’t come over the bridge or wherever she came from!” Merril had to stop for a moment —  _ God, she’s getting riled up _ — before whispering “God, what a prick.”

“Okay, look, I understand— look… everyone knows she’s a whore, alright?”

“I don’t know, Hope, I don’t think that we should be putting down other women  _ that _ much.”

“Oh, okay—”

“She’s a succubus is what she is,” Merril said, putting the last flower in the bouquet. “Witchcraft is the only thing that could’ve taken Spencer away from me. Yes, we had our fights! Usually my fault because he was so even-tempered, but—”

“Merril—”

“All he wanted to do was just paint the deer in our backyard!”

“He just painted the deer in the backyard…?”

“He loved it when— we had a couple of animals that would come in and out of the backyard, and he just liked watching them and painting them…”

“Merril, look—”

“He was a very calming presence!” She started crying again, earning herself a hug from Hope.

“Mer, I love you to death. Everybody in the neighborhood— when you went and married Spencer, he’s not from around here.”

“I know he’s not.”

“People here marry people from here, alright?”

“I know… and I don’t want someone from here!”

“And I don’t wanna say I told you so—”

“Hope, he’s the only man who accepted me as I am, just like Sydney did to you. That’s not—”

“ _ I don’t wanna say I told you so _ , nobody wants to say that. So here’s what I’m gonna do — I’m gonna settle up with you for the day, we’re gonna stop it here. I’ll split this into a couple different bouquets.”

“No, I can fix it, I can… take out some flowers… right, it’s not my best work, but I can…”

“God, I understand what you’re going through, but if I let you work more on this bouquet,  _ I’m _ accountable for it, right? I’ve already spoken up and I need to interject.”

“Do you want some premade sangria? I’ve got some in the fridge,” Merril tried as a last resort, pointing to one of the flower fridges, where one of the bigger shelves was cleared from bouquets and instead holding a jug of red wine.

“...hon, it’s ten thirty in the morning.”

“I know. I exercise some restraint at eight.”

“...okay, yeah, you know what? I’ll have some sangria.”

Before Merril could speak up, Asher Clayton walked in, making a bit of a ruckus and the two women jump.

“What do you want, Asher?” Merril asked him, wiping her eyes.

“How’s it goin’, Mer?” He immediately went in for the attack. “What the fuck’s wrong with this bouquet? What’s the fuckin’ problem? It looks like shit—”

“Oh, Asher, like you know anything about flower arrangement!”

“I happen to know a lot! Just because that ain’t my job doesn’t mean I don’t know shit about flowers!”

“No one wants rose arrangements anymore!” Hope went in, trying to shield Merril. “God, Asher!”

“People have phases, girls, it’s like fashion, don’t be fucking stupid!”

“Okay, okay!” Merril felt herself running out of breath, and it might’ve come out in her speech too. “Let’s calm down, let’s keep it together.”

“Okay! Here’s what I was gonna say anyway!” Asher raised his hands. “I don’t fuckin’ know if Hope told you yet, but Mom wants you to come home for dinner at some point, okay? This is the fuckin’ olive branch.”

“I know, I know! Yeah, I will, I’ll come at… some point. I just don’t know what my night is gonna be like tonight.”

“How ‘bout this…” Hope tried suggesting. “How ‘bout this Sunday?”

“Sunday… sure, Sunday.”

“Alright?”

“Wait, if I show up, am I going to be guilted for not going to church because it’s Sunday?” Merril frowned, looking between her siblings for help.

“I mean, would it kill you to go to church?” Asher snorted. “I don’t get it, right? It’s like you marry some guy who’s not from the neighborhood, now you’re not going to church, and you know…”

“Don’t bring him into this. You didn’t know him!”

“Look, I don’t know him, but I know Tabitha Adams, alright? And—”

“Oh my god…”

“You know what?” He almost spit, turning back to the door. “We’ll see you Sunday or not.”

“Don’t forget to pay the meter!”

* * *

On the way back to his apartment in Bushwick, as his phone was blown up with the twins trying to coordinate their next hit, Logan got stopped at the entrance by his landlady.

Cordelia, the forty-something-year old woman of his darkest nightmares, and her twenty-year old stepson —  _ Logan’s twenty-year old stepbrother _ — Austin.

And all his stuff was now in boxes.

“Okay, this is proof,” Cordelia declared, waving about a small plastic bag. “I know what this is. Are you dealing drugs out of my apartment building?”

“What? No. No! What are you talking about?”

“Well, what is this?” She waved the bag closer to his face.

“That’s… that’s dried up pen ink! It’s… it’s cool, nowadays! I told you, I work at a school now!”

“You work at a school now? You don’t dress like you do.”

“I swear, I work at a school!” He reached into his backpack, looking for another shroom, not getting too lucky.

“You have drugs in your bag.”

“ _ Fuck _ , Cordelia, it’s just a snack!”

“You are a bad influence on Austin!” 

“What are you talking about?! Austin, dude, come on! Tell her, I work at a school! I teach… music, at a school!”

Austin had already pulled his headphones up in discomfort. “But I keep seeing your friends around, aren’t they drug dealers…?”

“No! No no! Remember, it’s them, not me! I don’t do that shit!”

“But… we agreed that you’re getting me the weed for the party later…”

“No!”

“But we already settled it with Clay…”

“I don’t—“ Logan started to sputter, turning to Cordelia again. “Can you hear him saying all this? And you’re not mad at him!”

“Austin would never.” She pulled him in for a hug, a very uncomfortable one by the looks of things. “He would never do this!”

“Look, I don’t sell drugs! I promise!”

“I knew nothing good could come of you, with a father like yours,” she spit. “You’re crazy, boy.”

“No…”

“So now you’re going to stay on the streets!”

“No, no, come on—“

“I already called your father.”

“...what?”

Senator John Wright II was already standing by the door at that point, looking quite annoyed in his perfectly tailored suit and perfectly done hair. It was, quite frankly, turning into a shitshow.

Logan was doomed.

“I… what the fuck? Johnny, what are you doing here?”

“You’re going to call me Johnny?” He said, cool as ever. “Okay.”

“Yeah I am. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“You were doing so well until now.” Johnny picked up a box and started walking in the direction of the trash bins.

“Okay, hey— put that down! Put it— come on! What’s happening here?!”

“Eventually, your doctor didn’t seem to be enough anymore,” he just kept going as he got another box.

“I mean, yeah! You never gave a fuck about—“

“What’s so great about this crazy Doctor Blake of yours that you couldn’t handle with anyone else I paid for you?”

“It’s that— fuck, I can’t take it with those doctors anymore! I’m trans, I’m not confused!”

“That’s—“ Johnny put the box down, starting to wave his hands a bit. “Okay, I...I don’t want to talk about it, alright?”

“And now you’re doing this stupid fucking chicken dance that you do whenever—“

As Johnny turned to look at Logan, Logan started feeling… almost excited. Kind of lightheaded, butterflies in his stomach. And the second Johnny opened his mouth to say “that’s not a fucking conversation”, that feeling suddenly stopped.

He could see his father’s mouth forming his deadname, but no sound came out, and instead he was engulfed in a bubble. Then another. Then a lot. All coming out of his mouth. 

As his father started floating away in the sky, Logan grabbed a box and made a run for it.

* * *

Merril went on a ferry after closing up the shop. It was getting late, and she was running out of sangria, and going anywhere on Staten Island would just remind her of Spencer, so she decided to skip it and go to the city.

She ended up in an Irish pub, sitting down at the corner of the bar, looking at the bottles on the wall as the bartender approached her.

“Hey, how’s it going, Miss?” He asked her with a relative smile, watching her smile back, a bit of a mess. “What can I get you?”

“Uhh, can I get a Stoli Raz with seltzer and a twist?”

“Yeah, I can do that for you. No problem.” He winked at her, turning to the alcohol for a moment, then back to her. “I like that— what is that? Angora? It’s a nice little… a nice little sweater you got there.”

“Oh, thank you!” Merril beamed at that, holding her tears back. “Yeah, it’s angora. It’s authentic. Umm… you guys got a Kindle behind the bar or something that I could read?”

“...you wanna read an e-reader?”

“I don’t know, I just… I just…” she took a deep breath. “I just don’t entirely know how to interact with people right now.”

“Gotcha.”

“Oh, you wanna read somethin’?” Someone from the back of the bar called as the bartender went to make her drink — a guy in a group, all wearing striped shirts, with spiky frosted hair, making Merril groan inside.

“I’m trying to figure out how that could be a pickup line because it sounds like the beginning of one,” she shot back. “Yes, maybe.”

“Why don’t you read my dick?” The guy called back, followed by whoops from his friends.

“Oh, okay! ‘Cause I considered maybe it was gonna go in that direction, then I thought, ‘no, he’s better than that.’ No, I’m not gonna read your dick!” Merril got up, standing on her chair, a bit wobbly. “‘Cause I don’t read short stories!”

To the cheers of the rest of the people at the bar, she bowed down a little and sat down, only truly coming back to her senses after an hour or so, as a bachelorette party came in.

* * *

“ _ Hey, watch it, asshole! _ ”

He almost tripped over his own feet and fell on his face at the sound of the voice, turning to see that it was…

...a trash can. A motherfucking trash can. With googly eyes and a flapping lid for a mouth.

“ _ What’s your fuckin’ problem? I was standin’ right here by the doorway! What are you, some kinda piece o’ shit? _ ”

“I need to take an upper,” he mumbled to himself, trying to process the situation.

“ _ Oy, what, is this fuckin’ kid botherin’ you? _ ” Another voice came in, from another trash can, that he didn’t entirely remember being there before.

“ _ I dunno. You tryna start some fuckin’ trouble? _ ”

“No!”

“ _ If we weren’t already outside I’d ask ya, you wanna fuckin’ go outside? _ ”

“Nah, man, you’re just a trash can!”

“ _ Oh, so I’m just a trash can, _ ” the first one repeated, getting annoyed. 

“You’re just a trash can—“

“ _ And you’re just a piece of shit! Kids like you moving into the neighborhood, you sell drugs, make crime happen, you’re a real piece o’ shit, buddy! _ ”

Before the trash cans could actually hurt him, Logan started running away, slipping and falling into a puddle on the ground. And as he fell, he realized… this wasn’t New York anymore. 

There was a moon, all dressed in drag, reminding him how insane this all was; a unicorn — the gayest unicorn Logan’s ever seen — passed by, reminding Logan by the way that this isn’t real,  _ he _ is the only real thing here; some… monkey, angel, creature, coming up and kissing his face…

“ _ Holy shit, you’re here! _ ” Logan turned to the squeak, finding a rat eating a pizza. “ _ That’s incredible! _ ”

“Thank you…? Uhh, where am I?”

“ _ I don’t know, _ ” the rat answered. “ _ Where do you want to be? _ ”

“Okay, okay, there was… something else in those shrooms, I think…”

As Logan said it, in the corner of his eye he could see his dad floating off in the bubbles. Nothing about this place made any sense… what the...

“ _ He's gone, _ ” came a whisper. “ _ We have him now. You'll never have to worry about him again. We can make things that are unreal real. And we can make things real, unreal. Whatever you want. _ ”

His medical bracelet started to glow, with a smiley face throbbing on the front of it, like a big, yellow button. It was, to say the least… very tempting to press… but…

“ _ Do you want this power? _ ”

_ Fuck it. _

As Logan pressed the button, he was sent into almost complete darkness, coming face to face with a young cherub-like being. Curly strawberry blond hair, big brown eyes, and an incredibly concerned expression.

A door of hellfire was opening behind the cherub, with a low voice singing “ _ start spreading the news, I’m leaving today… I want to be a part of it… _ ”

“It’s happening,” the cherub whispered, looking right in Logan’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. Heed the words of Lazarus before it’s too late.”

“ _ I want to be… a part of it… _ ”

Within moments, as Logan found himself back in Central Park, surrounded by SantaCon attendees, his only thought was “I wish I had a boyfriend”.

Right before a mutant Santa, with a half-melted face, came in to bite him.

* * *

Merril was getting… pretty smashed at that point. After a good couple Stoli Razzes, a Christmas shot and a slippery nipple, courtesy of the bachelorette party, she was sure her liver was going to fail her that night.

Somehow, though… her mind was getting clearer.

“Tina,” the maid of honor announced, standing on her chair. “You are beautiful, you are wonderful, your life is all laid out ahead of you, and you’re building it in the moment. And honestly, there is not a better guy than Artie for you. We’re so happy you found the one. It is smooth sailing from here on out. But there’s one last night of choppy water!”

“I just wanna say something!” Merril jumped in, making the whole bachelorette party turn to her as she got out of her seat and went to the pub’s old karaoke machine. “I just want to tell you, Tina, that marriage was the best thing that ever happened to me, and you have a lot to look forward to. And, you know, I hope he makes you a slippery nipple every night before you go to bed. I do. I really do.”

She started humming a song as the girls walked up to her, a bit awkward, mumbling a chorus of “thank you”s.

And then, for a moment, she was sure her vision was failing her, because the same guys that catcalled her suddenly didn’t look so… human. They all grew about ten feet tall, their skin turning kind of a vegetative, mottled green, and their faces all covered in warts.

And she was  _ sure _ they were preying on the bachelorette party.

Well… she also saw them leave the pub after two of the girls, who went out to smoke.

So of course she went after them. It would only be wrong not to.

She wedged herself in between the giants and the girls, trying to shield them from the creeps, and started going off — “Oh my god, I’ve been drinking so much that sometimes I’m just— I feel like I’m seeing things! The other morning I woke up in an alley, and I could swear that a giant rat man brought me an egg sandwich and a Gatorade to help me sober up, so yeah, I’m definitely… definitely killing some brain cells, you know? But you know what? You’ve gotta kill some to kill the ones that have the memories of Spencer on them, so yeah, if this means that some men look like creepy, ten-foot tall gray-skinned men from now on, that’s fine with me, so long as I can forget Spencer’s aftershave…”

“Hey, look,” one of the giants called and tried to wedge himself between Merril and one of the girls, moving his hand to the small of the girl’s back. “Can I bum a cigarette from you? It seems like you’ve got a real party going on in there.”

Merril slapped his hand pretty quickly at that.

“Okay, alright, that’s not a part that we touch on women!” She started snapping her fingers at him. “Hi, it’s me, Merril Will— Portman. I was there on the karaoke machine earlier. I’ll  _ also _ take a cigarette!”

As the women slipped away, back into the pub, Merril started noticing wisps of… something, coming off of the giants. ( _ Giants? Trolls? Trolls _ .) They looked rather… surprised, to see her looking where their eyes actually are, and she kept looking.

“You got a fucking problem, lady?” One of them hissed.

“Yeah, I got a problem. What are you doing with those women?”

“Well—”

“‘Cause I don’t consider you the type to walk around with a cigarette.”

The troll looked at his friends, snorting to himself, before turning back. “That’s on us, I guess. That cigarette tax is no joke. Maybe we can bum one off of you, then? What do you think?”

“I actually don’t smoke.” She smirked at them, prompting the one to reach out to punch her.

So instead she reached over to grab his arm, flip him on his back and hit him over the head with one of her shoes, then taking both of them off to stab the heels into his eyes.

“Holy shit!” The remaining troll called, helping his friend up. “Vin, are you okay?”

“Nah, I got fucking shoes in my eyes!”

“Leave that bachelorette alone!” Merril screamed at them, feeling her throat dying out. “She’s got a really happy life ahead of her!”

The trolls left as she kept screaming, and when she couldn’t anymore, she fell down on a trash bag, feeling her eyes close on her own.


	2. The Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where David does magic in public, and Derek talks Sanchez out of putting things up his butt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone else in this fandom watches D20... I'm sorry for fucking it up so badly. But I love this AU so much.
> 
> On other news - I'm so ready for Shane to get introduced next chapter, it's going to be beautiful.

Beyond the snow and Christmas cheer, off in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, a different type of red light was shining bright, as a whole fleet of civic workers fled to help out the residents of a burning building. 

The third and fourth floor of the brownstone were engulfed in flames, trapping a small kid, looking about eight years old, covered in soot. She was holding onto her teddy bear and cried, the fire department were doing everything they could to rescue her, and then the door to the apartment where she was trapped was knocked down.

And in walked David Sullivan, immediately kneeling down by her as his friends busted the door to the next room in an attempt to rescue her guardian.

"Are you a firefighter?" She asked, sniffling a bit.

"I am." He smiled at her, hoping to appear calm enough. "That's a really cool teddy bear. What's his name?"

"Ivy," the girl mumbled. "It's a girl."

"Alright. Well, hold onto Ivy real tight, and then I'm gonna pick you up and we're all just gonna have a fun time getting out of here. Okay?"

A golden halo started shining from David — some would say a holy light, others would say civic responsibility — and the girl seemed to… calm down somewhat. David just hoped nobody else saw it.

"Okay," she mumbled in return, turning to her bear. "We're gonna be okay, buddy."

As they fled the building, David could feel the structure coming down around him, getting to the staircase just as a burning beam fell down in the hallway, blocking the others and the girl's guardian — her dad? — from exiting the building.

He had to improvise, and he had to do it now.

"Can you look out the window real fast and tell me what's going on outside?" He asked the girl, one hand on his axe.

"Yeah, okay."

As the girl turned to look out the window, David took a deep breath and summoned a blast of water toward the burning beam, cutting the beam in half and somewhat killing the fire, to some degree.

"Hey, did something happen outside?" He asked the girl again, tapping her shoulder as he kept going downstairs. "What was the window like?"

"The window?" The kid frowned, a bit confused. "It was normal… it was normal, I think. Did you—"

"That's good." He smiled at her and slowed down as they got near the exit.

Right as David put the girl on the ground, watching her run off to her dad's arms, a reporter from New York One came up to him, practically shoving a microphone in his face.

"Sir, sir, you've just amazingly saved a young girl's life in this burning building. On behalf of the city, thank you so much. Is this the last people in the building right now?"

"...yeah, yeah, that's pretty much everyone," he answered, keeping a smile on his face. "Everyone at home, if you're watching this, make sure that your sprinklers are up to date, that you have fire extinguishers, and that you're always taking the precautions you need to keep your home safe. We got lucky this time. Make sure that you're just keeping up with that. Am I on TV right now…?"

"Yeah, this is the New York One."

"Awesome. What's up, mom, dad? Katherine, hey, what's going on? I just want to say, you know, holidays are a tough time for Christmas trees. You know, you want to make sure you're safe with that."

"Thank you," the reporter told him, turning the mic away. "That's all we needed. Let's just get some shots… over here…"

David nodded and moved aside, going toward the little girl, who was now surrounded by not just her father but also what seemed to be her mother and older brothers, a whole family of tall blondes. He waved at the girl, saw her wave back, and as soon as she did her mother spoke up.

"Thank you so much!" She called, hugging the girl now. "You saved my family's lives. You saved my little Ashley! You're a hero!"

"I mean, you know," he chuckled. "I'm just doing my job—"

"March! You're Mister March, from the firemen's calendar!"

"...yes." He snickered, a bit embarrassed. "I posed for our calendar… it's me. Do you want me to— I'll sign it if you want, I guess."

"Yes! I have one on me right now!" She momentarily lets go of the girl to grab the calendar from her bag.

"You have it on you…?"

"I do! Is that a problem?" She opened the month of March and handed it to David, along with a sharpie. "You really are a hero."

"Thank you ma'am," he snickered again, signing on his picture. "I appreciate that."

As the mother started getting… probably way more excited than she should've been, in David's opinion, and he turned to leave the scene and check his phone, the little girl followed him, pulling on his uniform.

"I looked out the window," she told him, hugging her bear. "But Ivy didn't. You made that big log stop burning, right?"

"...you know, sometimes, firefighters have to use all the tools on their belt," he tried explaining, rubbing the back of his neck. "And it can get really confusing."

"You're a wizard?"

"I'm not a wizard…"

"Oh, okay!"

And as his phone kept buzzing, and the girl wouldn't go, David decided on another approach. 

"Hey, can you keep a secret?"

"I can keep a secret!" Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Only me and Ivy will know!"

So he leaned down and whispered, "I do have a little magic in me."

The girl absolutely went wild at that, running off and jumping excitedly, and David went further away, taking his phone out to check it.

' ** _New Messages from:_** _Katherine_

**_Katherine:_ ** _need to meet up ASAP_

**_Katherine:_ ** _santacon today, couple of points to cover_

**_Katherine:_ ** _would love your help if available_

**_David:_ ** _Just finished up in Cobble Hill, omw! How are you doing?_

**_Katherine_** _is typing…_ '

As he waited for her to finish typing, David put his phone in his pocket, grabbed his axe again, and started running away from the scene and toward Clinton Hill.

* * *

"How's it going, Tamerlane?" David asked the door gargoyle upon reaching the Clinton Hill chantry. The ivy-covered brownstone was becoming very familiar to him, and Tamerlane was becoming quite his friend.

Well… as far as a human man and a door knocker gargoyle can be friends.

"Ah, ya know, it's been better," the gargoyle shrugged. "Say, I gotta tell you, it gets to this time of year, the heat and the cold, the metal expands and contracts… I can feel myself busting my ass through the wood of the door. It's a fuckin' hassle, ya know? How 'bout you, my man? You look good!"

"I'm good," he chuckles. "I've been working on my bachelor's degree."

"Oh, good luck! That's great, man. How's your ma? She's good?"

"She's good! The whole family's great, but you know, a lot of people have problems."

"Oh, for sure. Believe me, I— hey, you gotta count your blessings, you know? You can move around. I'm stuck in a door, so…"

"If you ever want me to bring you anything, you know…"

"Actually yeah, if you're not busy right now, there's this place called Graziella's that do like a chicken parm, if you wanted to grab one I wouldn't mind that."

"I could get it to you later," David said rather apologetically, still smiling though. "I kinda have to go in there, sorry about it."

"Yeah, you're busy, I get it."

Tamerlane made some alarm noise, and almost instantly as the door opened David caught sight of the blue-dyed tips of Katherine's braid, hearing her light footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Oh, good," she said when she saw him, quite relieved, her hands anxiously rubbing her bleached jeans. "You made it here in record time."

"Well, you know, if you go over the top of buildings it's a lot quicker," he laughed, finally allowing himself to relax. "I know I keep saying it, but awesome hair color. It's great."

"Thank you, thank you very much. I appreciate it. So… I want to tell you a little bit about SantaCon and what'll be happening today."

"Okay, awesome."

"Have I…" she stopped for a moment, looking around the room, eventually pulling the string on her hoodie to fidget with. "Because you came here about ten, eleven months ago, so you missed the last SantaCon."

"This is my first one since I… started seeing all the magic stuff, yeah."

"Yeah, since you were inducted into the Unsleeping City by the questing blade and the magical world that exists behind the waking world, New York was revealed to you, this is your first SantaCon with us."

"Yeah."

"So… what _do_ you know about SantaCon?"

"I mean… I've always thought it's just a bunch of drunk guys on the streets, loitering and stuff, but you asked me about it so I guess it's more than that…"

"Yeah, it's very much more than that. What it is, is…" she took another moment, working through her words. "Have you ever wondered how Santa Claus is able to get to everyone's homes in one night?"

"I mean, I always assumed it to be magic, but yeah."

"Well, magic has to work in certain ways, it can't just solve everything. That's why Sylvia and I hoard all those books, you know?"

"Yeah, totally. Gotcha."

"Okay, good. So first of all, Santa Claus is real."

"Awesome."

"Yeah. Second of all, in order to get into all those homes in one night, Santa can't exactly be in all those places all at once. That'll take a level of magic that's honestly staggering to even consider. What happens instead is, Santa clones himself millions and millions of times, and each of those clones goes to each of the different houses. So far, you're with me?"

"Yeah, I think I get it… is it like… a science type of clone, or…"

"You could call it science, yeah, but also Santa's an extremely powerful sorcerer."

"Oh, okay."

"Effectively, if you clone yourself millions and millions of times, even with the best equipment available and best spellcasting, not every clone is gonna turn out great."

"...so that's SantaCon?"

"Yeah, basically. What happens is that a week or two before Christmas, Santa comes to New York, and because of the Umbral arcana— you remember what that is, right?"

"It's the… thing that keeps everyday people from exposure to magic, right? Like, that dimension, layer, thing that keeps people from knowing magic exists?"

"Yeah. Exactly. It's that safety thing. So because of the Umbral arcana, Santa dumps his defective clones here in the city once a year. That's SantaCon."

"Okay… I think I got it… so what happens when they get to New York?"

"Mostly wander around," Katherine shrugged. "They're pretty harmless. Most of them have trouble moving or getting around because, again, they're defective clones, but basically we just need to round them up and kind of either, depending on how some people feel, you can either hold on to them and they naturally die in a couple of weeks, or you can just incinerate them. But that's… basically what happens."

"Is Santa good?" David chuckled, trying to think about it all. "I mean... "

"He does care deeply for the children of the world."

"Yeah, but he also clones himself millions of times a year, and I don't think I'm being paid enough to think about the logistics of that."

"You and I both… well, if you just want to hit the bricks and keep a patrol this evening for any of that weird stuff happening, and just round up any clones that you find and deposit them to us. If they're causing danger, I would say maybe dispatch them right then and there."

"Okay, yeah, sure. Gotcha."

"Thank you, David."

"No problem, Katherine."

* * *

Logan was pretty sure he was about to die right then and there, as the mutant Santa bit his face. There was a strong smell of peppermint, and his bones felt like they were going weak, and everything about this situation just sucked so bad. But… then it didn't.

"You guys go stand over there right now," a voice called, slapping one of the Santas away from him.

"Fuck!"

Once Logan came back to awareness, he processed the firefighter standing over him — tall, shaved head, carrying a giant axe — right before one of the creeps exploded into a shower of peppermint candy, with the guy shielding Logan from the… shrapnel? Could it even be called shrapnel if it's candy?

"Fuck, man," Logan groaned, feeling everything go weaker and weaker. "Help…"

"Hey, sir, listen to me," the other guy said, leaning down to check on him. "I'm a New York firefighter."

"I think that guy just fucking bit me…"

"Yeah, it looks like you got a pretty nasty bite there…" He grimaced a bit, then turned to help Logan up, and once standing Logan pulled out a gun from his bag and started running after the motherfuckers who attacked him.

"Hey, sir? Sir?!" The firefighter started chasing him.

"Motherfucker!"

"Sir, I'm gonna ask you to put your gun down!" Logan didn't, instead finding himself grappled by the other guy. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put your gun down."

"I got my licenses and everything…"

"That sounds great, but you're in kind of a weird state right now, and I just want to help. I'm gonna get you some help, okay?" David felt the guy go limp in his arms as he put the gun back in his backpack. He felt sick… magically so. And he couldn't do anything about it…

But maybe Seigerson could.

"Sir, I'm going to get you some help. I know a guy who can help us, he works at St. Owen's."

"No, I can't go to the hospital, man," the guy begged, his eyes going wide.

"I'm sure— you really need to get to the hospital."

"No no no, I really—"

"I can smell how sweet your body is turning, and it's time to take care of that—" before David could finish speaking, one of the guy's teeth fell out of his mouth and was replaced by a peppermint one, as he let out a cry of pain.

"My— my tooth! I just lost a fucking tooth!"

"Honestly, that's horrifying. Let's go."

* * *

"Seigerson, busy day ahead of us," Doctor Sullivan called as Derek got closer to his office. "That guy, Sanchez, came in again. Same problem as last time."

"Well, somebody needs to talk to him," Derek sighed as the doctor passed off a clipboard and went off in his own direction, leaving the nurse with quite a familiar visitor.

Gianfrancesco Sanchez. Derek Seigerson's favorite patient, and worst nightmare.

"Okay, look hon, I'll tell you exactly what happened," Sanchez announced as he walked in.

"Mmhm…"

"So it's pretty standard. So I go around in the subways and stuff, there's a lot of cool stuff in there, and I found this… looked like some kinda bronze statue of a falcon or something. So I thought I'd pawn it, but first I'd have to varnish it, you know? Get some of the rust off?"

"Mmhm."

"So I put some varnish on it. And then what happened was, I was getting ready for a shower, so I was naked, you get it, and before I shower I like having a bowl of cereal. Just something I like to do…"

"Sanchez, I'm gonna stop you right there."

"Now what happens is that the cereal is on the high shelf…"

"Sanchez?"

"So there's a stepladder to get up there—"

"Sanchez!" Derek slammed a fist in his desk. "You've gotta stop coming here, Sanchez. You gotta fix your life, alright? Because I know for a fact— Sanchez, cut to the end of the story."

"...I fell off the ladder and the statue went up my butt."

"Yup… have you ever tried a therapist instead of a medical doctor?"

"No… it was an accident."

"Oh, okay. Sanchez… Sanchez, this is the fourth time you've come here because of something stuck in your butt." He had to pause and rub his face, trying not to groan. "Let's be real right now, Sanchez. Let's be real right now. How many times have you come here with stuff in your butt?"

"Four times…"

"Four times."

The groan went out as soon as Derek felt that he suppressed it.

"We're gonna take that thing out of your butt, I'm not gonna deny you medical services, but I'm just saying, you need to ask yourself some questions, man, because I tell you… ain't nothing wrong with being kinky. Anal isn't exactly my thing, but it's totally fine if it's your kink, so long as you be kinky safely. Alright?"

"...you mean that? I mean, that really—"

"One hundred percent. Ain't nothing wrong with being a freak."

Sanchez seemed like he was about to start crying. "You're a good man, Nurse Seigerson. You're a good man. I appreciate that."

"Of course."

"I just… no one's ever told me that before and I find a lot of this cool treasures and artifacts and stuff like that, and I put them up my butt, and it's never— I just like the feeling of it going up there, knowing that someone put a lot of time and effort into this sort of thing, and—"

"Hey, dude, I get it. You got some— you like fucking artifacts, or having artifacts fuck you, or something like that. I'm not trying to get into it. That's your business. But you just need to figure out how you can do it safely because I'll tell you, it's expensive to come to the hospital. It's expensive. Stop paying all this money. You can get… custom designed dildos for far cheaper."

"You know money's no object for me, right? I do sell them afterwards."

"You… you _sell_ them—"

"Oh, no no no, I clean them before I sell them."

"...okay, you know what? You better—"

"I better head out, yeah."

"You better head out. Get ready for surgery."

"Yeah… Thank you, Nurse Seigerson."

"Of course."

Derek nodded and watched Sanchez leave, looking through the clipboard for anything that would've been scheduled for today. Nothing looked interesting enough, though. One of the trolls of the Brooklyn bridge needed to see a dermatologist about his warts, written down as an older man seeking help with a rash, and—

"Derek!" The door flung open, and David Sullivan stood there, still in his uniform and carrying a long, lanky, blond guy, wriggling to get put down.

"David! What the fuck?"

"Put me down!" The blond guy hissed, trying to elbow David.

"You're going to be okay, sir."

"David, what's going on?" Derek demanded as David put the guy in a chair, watching him go limp. "Have you— have you been jumping on buildings again?"

"I may have."

"David, I told you to stop fucking jumping on buildings."

"And you're _right_ , I should be more careful, but I got this very sweet-smelling man right here—"

"I'm sorry. Sweet-smelling?" David raised an eyebrow, watching the guy squirm in discomfort.

"I have no idea what you meant by that," the guy mumbled, reaching for something in his bag. "But yeah, my tooth fell out and now it's candy. Hey, do you disclose patient information to outside people in here?"

"I think that's violating some ethical code, so no," Derek explained, rushing to turn down the blinders and lead the guy and David into a small checkup room in the back.

Once in the back room, Derek wasted no time getting things moving — he cleared shelves and moved trolleys, checking the wall for a small rune drawn in a purple marker. Upon finding the rune, a small token on the chain on his neck started glowing, and within moments a glittering door revealed itself, opening up without Derek even touching it. He went back to help the guy into the room, he was _so close_ , but then the office door opened.

"David, what are you doing here?" Doctor Harold Sullivan called, coming into the office.

"Oh, Dad!" The poor man jumped, turning to face his father. "Uhh, Derek is my friend, we were going to talk about—"

"Yeah, we're friends—"

"—school stuff, he's helping me write a project—"

"How did you open that door?" The blond guy asked, squinting a little, and Doctor Sullivan turned confused.

"What door? The office door? Sir, are you feeling alright?"

"That…" He frowned.

"Hospitals have so much money nowadays, that's crazy," Derek tried to bullshit, dragging the guy to the back-back room.

"You can take—" David started, trying his best to hold his dad back.

And in a quick move, while David kept his dad busy, Derek took the new guy into his magical clinic.

* * *

"What happened to you?" Nurse Derek — a man in his forties, brown hair peppered with white, wearing a white coat over his green scrubs — put Logan on a bed inside the room with the shimmering black door, then placed one hand on his forehead, like a parent to their feverish child.

"How much can I tell you? Are you going to turn me in to the cops?"

"What? No! What?!" The guy clicked his tongue, let go of Logan's head and went to look through strange bottles and jars. "What are you talking about? We're in a magic room right now."

"I don't know, man… look… okay, fine, I took some mushrooms."

"...you took some mushrooms."

"My friends told me it was okay, so I took some mushrooms, and then my dad floated away in a bubble and a man bit my face."

"A man hit your face? Who hit your face?"

"No, a man _bit_ my face."

"...A man bit your face. Who bit your face?"

"I don't know. It was after I pushed the happy face button and let it all out."

"You let—" the nurse stopped to take a deep breath. "Sorry… okay."

"I meant darkness."

"Okay… now I need to understand. It seems like you were bitten by a mutant Santa Claus."

"Yup."

"Okay… alright." He went back to moving through the bottles, turning to mix some random stuff in a beaker somewhere. "What's your name, kid?"

"Johnny."

"Alright, Johnny, I'm Nurse Seigerson, you can call me Derek."

"Okay…"

"I'm going to work on what's the problem right now, the thing that got your tooth all fucked up, and after that we need to talk because—"

"Yeah, yeah."

"There's something going on."

"I… actually have a doctor already, so you can just tell me what you were going to do..."

"Oh? Who's your doctor? Maybe I could pull your records, what's their name?"

"Uhh… Doctor Arin Blake."

Derek lit up almost instantly at the name. "Oh, Arin Blake! The one who works all the way down in Brooklyn? In that revamped warehouse?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, he's a fantastic doctor. Honestly, I was shocked that he chose to go off the grid like that instead of working in a hospital. He's a good man though, I respect him. You got a good doctor. Anyway—"

Before Logan could even notice, Derek wiped his arm with rubbing alcohol, stuck a syringe in it, and in seconds the pain went away. And then the needle went out and the pain of the prick came over. Well…

It wasn't just the pain of the prick. The whole room disappeared.

As Derek looked into Johnny's eyes, he saw swirls, sparkles and bright colors, an entire city made out of some psychedelic material, and a gray child looking over it all.

As Logan looked into Derek's eyes, he saw New York City in the summer, golden light shining through and over the tall buildings, neighborhoods full of happy people, all hearts beating as one.

And then the vision snapped and disappeared, as if it never was.

"What in the fuck—" The nurse started. "Are you—?"

"Get away from me!" The young man cried.

"What did you do to me?!"

"I don't know!"

"I've been doing this for twenty-five years, I've never seen anything like that!"

"What the fuck is happening?!"

"I don't know. Where did you come from?!"

"I don't know! I'm on a lot of meds right now, maybe it was a weird combination!"

"Okay!" Derek took a moment to calm down, looking at the poor kid visibly losing it. It wasn't his fault, he looked extremely young… Derek was practically his age when he first got introduced to this world too. "Okay. What are you doing today? You got time?"

"I was gonna…" Logan tried taking some deep breaths. "Yeah, I think I got time."

"Good. I got a friend who might know what's going on."

"...Is it that weird buff dude?"

"...David?" He made a face, snorting somewhat. "It's not David, but he's probably gonna come along. He's just— I don't know. What do you think of him?"

"He feels like the sort of guy who could bully me."

"Nah, he's a nice dude. A bit like a golden retriever, he's a good guy. Come on."

* * *

"Your mother really wants to meet this Katherine already," Harold sighed, checking his clock. This was taking far too long. "And if not, she can find you a nice girl—"

"Yeah, I know, and I appreciate it," David said in a choked voice, for the fifth time today. "But Katherine and I are taking it slow, and I'll introduce her when we're ready—"

"David, come on," Derek announced once he and Johnny came out of the magic room, grabbing David's arm with his own free one.

"Oh, okay… see you, Dad!"

Harold rubbed his face as he saw his coworker, his son and some random stoner leave the office, then the hospital.

"So…" David said as they all crammed into a cab, breaking the silence. "Where _are_ we going?"

"We're going to Larson."


End file.
